ode to Edgar Allen Poe | Teen Ink

ode to Edgar Allen Poe

April 14, 2014
By NOIZTHIMS GOLD, South Jordan, Utah
NOIZTHIMS GOLD, South Jordan, Utah
15 articles 0 photos 51 comments

Favorite Quote:
"If your eyes could speak, what... what would they say?" -Max (from "The Book Thief")


I can tell he is going to kill me. I am old and would not be
terribly sad to see it come.
But, to be murdered?
No...
My bedchamber has become
his favorite place
to pass the time,
and I,
his biggest point of interest.

He is so kind to me,
more than ever before.
It is sickening.
I am a lodger here,
but not truly a guest,
no.
I am a target.

Every night
just at midnight he comes in.
He watches,
waits,
waits for the eye.
The vulture eye.

He hates it!
It burns him,
cuts deep into his soul.
And, I know it.
I let it.
I let it lazily drift towards him while he thinks I'm reading...

In a way,
it's the only way for my old self to get back at him for plotting
to kill an old, weary soul
such as myself.

He that would kill me,
and for what?
His peace of mind?
And, to an end,
I may have gone mad over this.
But, not more so than he...
he that would kill for peace.
A rest from this weary,
old,
dead,
eye.

He is truly and undoubtedly insane. That he is not,
would be a lie,
is a lie.
Yet,
in every conversation he mentions it.
"The disease has not made me mad. Tis a mere sharpening
of the senses."
He lies.
His audacity...
to plan to murder an old man
and not be insane.

Nightly,
I hear him.
Sense him.
Slowly,
slowly,
slowly,
moving
closer,
closer
every night.

Sometimes he is so quiet
that I can hear my own heart beat. He can too...
And it pains him.
Thump thump,
thump thump.
The beating must make
the madman more mad.

He then shines the lantern at me. sliding the shutters of it open, slowly ,
slowly.
He carefully,
gently,
vigilantly,
moves the minuscule beam upward.
To my eye.
The vulture eye.

And I see it come...
just before it does,
I close it.
That eye that he loathes so much. For if it was open,
I would surely die
in his rage
at the bane of his existence.
He would so diligently seek
to eradicate my existence
that there would be no chance
for me.

Perhaps,
at that,
I am indeed,
also mad.

But finally,
this last and 7th night,
I have decided.
The madness,
his,
and mine,
will go on no longer.

And it seems to be not just me,
but his subconscious as well
that decides this.
for,
he slips.
mentally and physically.
He carelessly opens the door
too fast
and moves inside
much faster this night.
And, while opening the lantern,
he makes a squeak.
perhaps his hand
slips on the shutter
just slightly,
but nevertheless,
it squeaks.

I sit up with a jolt
suddenly.
Waiting for the inevitable kill
to happen.
But nothing does.
I patiently pass time
till he comes in,
ends me,
and finds some horrible
nightmarish
way to make it happen.
But nothing does.

No,
he waits.
it is silent.
"He may have left
in my rush to sit up."
I tell myself inwardly.
But I do not believe
even my own thoughts now.
It is too late an hour
on life’s timer till death
for that.

Then,
I wait more.
Thoughts of how
I deceive myself
go through my head.

"It was simply a beetle
in the wall,
or a cricket that has made
a single chirp."
I even say this out loud.

But NO!
He is there.
Doubt has once again
bludgeoned faith.

There I stay,
we stay.
Waiting to kill,
and be killed.

He,
listening to my heart beat.
I,
Thinking how it is like
the timepiece of life.

How poetic.
The heart,
ticking away at our time.
I too now.
I hear it thud.
Comparable to a watch
buried deep
in the wool pocket
of it's owner.
waiting
to be taken out and checked upon.

I,
in my one last effort to live,
let out a moan.
The deep,
forlorn,
weary,
sad
moan,
of a man literally
on the bed of death.

Then the ray rises.
Deaths finger points upward.
Up,
up,
till at last,
in synchronization
with the loudest yet beat
of my heart,
it is cast upon my eye.

He shines it steadily,
steadily.
I dare not move.
Then and there.
With his last
and final glimpse
of my hideous eye,
he decides fully to the deed,
and charges.

I let out one final shriek
of horror.
My hour is at hand.
He throws me down.

The mattress atop me
doesn't allow me to breathe.
But in my last effort to win
this battle of madmen,
I will my heart to beat on.

It does,
I hope,
then I fear.

That timepiece of life
may not be stopped.
The muffled pocketwatch
ticks
nevermore.

My heart beats
.....once.......twice..........


The author's comments:
This is an ode to the writing style of Poe, it plays off the old man's perspective in "the telltale heart" I was trying really hard to copy his writing style (since I consider doing so a talent) Leave a comment below if you like it

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 10 comments.


on May. 18 2015 at 5:28 pm
BoobooBeetle DIAMOND, Jacksonville, Florida
74 articles 1 photo 36 comments

Favorite Quote:
&ldquo;A good novel tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel tells us the truth about its author.&rdquo;<br /> G.K. Chesterton<br /> <br /> &quot;And you, you ridiculous people, you expect me to help you.&quot; <br /> Denis Johnson

OK, let me tell you something, this, at the least, is one of the best poems I've ever read. How it grasps the reader's attention to effortlessly, the way it holds to much emotion and suspense, the fact that it's written in such a beautiful way, such as Edgar Allen Poe's way, just amazing! I can't even understand how something so wonderful can be written!! Honestly, I really hope it gets published because so many would be astonished by the talented writers that don't get noticed that very often... Wonderful job!! :)

dya.o PLATINUM said...
on Oct. 13 2014 at 10:43 am
dya.o PLATINUM, Milton, Florida
43 articles 0 photos 86 comments

Favorite Quote:
&ldquo;If consensus is overrated, I think balance is, too.<br /> I have no interest in living a balanced life.<br /> I want a life of adventure.&rdquo; | Chris Guillebeau

Being a fan of Poe myself, I absolutely adore this piece of work. You captured the whole essence of his writing wonderfully, and I love how it reminds me every now and then of "The Tell-Tale Heart". You did an amazing job with this. Please continue to write. I'd like to read more of your work C:

on Sep. 14 2014 at 2:10 pm
beAWESOMEstayAWESOME BRONZE, New York City, New York
3 articles 0 photos 133 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;Work hard in silence and let your accomplishments make the noise.&quot;

You did a very good job in using poe's writing technique. 

on Jul. 10 2014 at 8:54 pm
Luv4Ever SILVER, Jacksonville, Florida
7 articles 0 photos 199 comments

Favorite Quote:
A miracle is just another name for hard work<br /> -Minho in &quot;To The Beautiful You&quot;

I love Poe and this poem

HudaZav SILVER said...
on Jun. 20 2014 at 1:54 pm
HudaZav SILVER, Toronto, Other
8 articles 6 photos 390 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;Nothing is impossible; the word itself says &#039;I&#039;m possible&#039;!&quot; -Audrey Hepburn

Very interesting and suspenseful poem! The imagery combined with the situation had me on the edge of my seat. Well done!

on Jun. 1 2014 at 8:46 am
WinterRose76 SILVER, Ok., Florida
6 articles 6 photos 183 comments

Favorite Quote:
Arise and be all that you dream - Flyleaf

Great poem! It held my attention and was very interesting to read. It definitely reminded me of something Poe would write! 5/5

on May. 15 2014 at 9:53 am
NostradamusClaims, New Delhi, Other
0 articles 0 photos 14 comments

Favorite Quote:
out beyond ideas of right doing and wrong doing<br /> there is a field <br /> i&#039;ll meet you there<br /> -Rumi

i love the conversational way it flows in and out, the imagery is fantastic :)  

NOIZTHIMS GOLD said...
on Apr. 28 2014 at 10:41 pm
NOIZTHIMS GOLD, South Jordan, Utah
15 articles 0 photos 51 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;If your eyes could speak, what... what would they say?&quot; -Max (from &quot;The Book Thief&quot;)

thanks for the review

on Apr. 28 2014 at 1:49 am
angelpeach23 SILVER, Flagstaff, Arizona
5 articles 0 photos 13 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;I think it&#039;s fairly common for writers to be afflicted with two simultaneous yet contradictory delusions- the burning certainty that we&#039;re unique geniuses and the constant fear that we&#039;re witless frauds who are speeding toward epic failure.&quot; -Lynch

It is definitely Poe-esque, and I can picture the creppy scene very effectively in my mind. I think this poem is really going somehwere, but I think it could really be brought out with a little more editing, as some as the wording is awkward and there are some mistakes. Nevertheless I think it's a good poem (:

on Apr. 27 2014 at 11:29 pm
Love2Read72 PLATINUM, Kentfield, California
24 articles 0 photos 105 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;Life isn&rsquo;t about how to survive the storm, it&rsquo;s about learning to dance in the rain.&rdquo; &mdash; Taylor Swift

Not only is this beautifully written, but I love how you captured the spirit of "The Tell-Tale Heart."